A/N: I couldn't find a band that they both definitively like, so for the purpose of my story I'm going to assume Jeff likes The Luchagors (and that The Luchagors existed when Punk and Jeff were in high school) too since Punk's already confirmed that he does, and the Hardy's like Lita. yeah…we're gonna go with that

Hugs in Advance - Enjoy xoxo

Disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, I do not own any WWE superstars – past or present.

PUNK's POV

Today was the first day of his junior year of high school, Punk could care less. He walked into school his jet black hair slicked back with gel, wearing pretty much what he always did, jeans and one of his many band shirts. Today it was The Luchagors. The moment he walked into the building he was greeted by a bunch of 'Hey man's and 'How's it going Punk's, some from his bros but most originating from sources with whom he was not particularly familiar. After what seemed like hours of irrelevant two second conversations he was on his way. He checked his schedule and made his was to his first period of the day.

He turned the corner leisurely, not really caring that he was already a couple of minutes late to class. Just then – BUMP!

Someone had run right into him. His stuff was scattered all over the place. He was royally pissed.

He looked up to see a mess of brightly colored hair.

"Sorry, not sorry," the mess muttered audibly as it passed by without a moment's pause.

Punk was furious. He spun around and shouted "Do you fucking know who I am?"

The few people lingering in the near empty hallway turned and looked in his direction but upon recognizing the familiar face kept walking.

Anyone that was anyone at Lockport Township High knew who Punk was. Hell even if they were nobodies (ie: freshman) – they still, one way or the other, knew of Punk, he was relevant, respected and revered.

So what exactly was the mess thinking? Acting like a blind goat and on top of it giving him a stupid fuck attitude? No one got away with that, Punk expected the respect that he knew he deserved.

Noticing that he had not elicited a response from the mess he turned around and called out.

"Yo, Rainbow! I was talking to you."

The mess slowly rotated.

Punk was in awe.

This is not at all what he was expecting the mess to be.

The so called mess was not so messy from the front; in fact, he wasn't a mess at all. Sure his hair resembled that of a 5 year old who had gotten intimate with his mother's make up, but other than that, Punk noticed, this kid was a reflection of himself.

They stood at about the same height with very similar builds, but that wasn't even the crazy part. This idiot was wearing the exact same shirt as him, very surprising considering the popularity of The Luchagors, the same distressed jeans, hell he was even wearing the same fucking Nikes as Punk.

What the hell? This guy from where-ever-the-fuck couldn't honestly be just like him. Punk was unique, he didn't jump on bandwagons, he didn't keep up with "Pop-Culture." He was Punk and he did his own thing. His Own Thing. People tried to copy his style all the time, he never cared because none of them were worth the few fucks he had to give.

This time, however, it just felt different, this guy seemed so real. Punk had never known anyone with interests similar to his. Sure everyone tried pretending, he fucking ruled the school, why wouldn't they? But it had always been so obvious that they were simply putting on an act to ride his coat tails up the social ladder of high school.

This guy was different though, Punk had lived in Lockport his whole life and he could detect an outsider from a light year away. This dude was from somewhere far away so it was highly unlikely that he knew who Punk was. As his thoughts wandered he flashed back to when he was in the ninth grade, rocking hair that went down to his shoulders with shocking blue streaks. He and the mess were undeniably a lot alike.

Now he just needed to find out who this dude was.

He looked up ready to address this new person.

At once he realized that he must have been really deep in thought because a cursory glance at his surroundings showed him that the hallways were deserted and an equally quick glance at his watch showed him that he was 15 minutes late to class.

Realizing that there was no good reason to wait around any longer he headed to the gym, thank god his first period was his favorite. The only tolerable class this school had to offer – weight training.

I'M JUST LIKE YOU || YOU'RE JUST LIKE ME ||IT'S SOMETHING ANYONE CAN SEE

A/N I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter, it went in the direction I wanted it to, it ended in the right place and all but I'm really unsure about the quality of the writing (I'm obviously a biased judge :P).

So I just want to say Thank you soo much for reading this far and I really really hope that you take the time to review (Anon or otherwise)

Hugs in Advance xoxo

Oh and also thank you to those of you who reviewed my last chapter!

XxYourXxFavoriteXxBrunetteXx Thank you so much! I love your stories!

JNHwwe Thanks for the feedback. I tried to take care of the punctuation aspect in the chapter :)

slasherfilmfan Thanks love. and lol yeah. who doesn't love Jeff? ;)